


long may the day be

by ncfan



Series: Legendarium Ladies April [9]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Akallabêth, Gen, Hope, Númenor, POV Female Character, Second Age, Tumblr: legendariumladiesapril, legendarium ladies april
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At last, a new day had dawned for Númenor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	long may the day be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Legendarium Ladies April 13 Picture Prompt, ‘Fragment of a Queen’s Face.’ I interpreted this prompt as wanting to expand upon queens in the legendarium about whom we know very little, and settled upon Tar-Míriel. Though much of her life was pretty awful, the time period in which her father was on the throne must have been a happier time for her, so I decided to focus upon that.

There was a shimmering mist over the sea that veils the Sun when it rose, painting everything with soft, golden light. The seagulls darted in and out of the mist, their cries and the rolling tide the only sound for miles. Míriel peered out the open window, drawing a deep breath, before stepping out into the corridor, and making a quick exit from the house into the garden.

The garden was overgrown after over a century and a half of neglect, more like a forest than a garden. Trees that might have been small when they were kept pruned now towered overhead, and there were a few there that Míriel suspected hadn’t been at all before this house had been abandoned. The tall grass was dotted with small, white wildflowers that swayed gently in the breeze. This was nothing so well-kempt as what Míriel was accustomed to in Armenelos, but she hardly noticed. The novelty of her surroundings was more than enough to make up for their roughness.

She had never thought she would be here. All her life, Míriel had known the Andustar only as a place where no one went, where her grandfather Ar-Gimilzôr forbade anyone to go, on pains of death. It was supposed to be a green land, land filled with trees, the latter of which was not something Míriel had had overwhelming amounts of experience with—as far as her grandfather and great-grandfather before him were concerned, the only thing trees were good for was ship-building. The Andustar had been emptied of its people, punishment for staying true to the tenets of their faith, though there were some who told the tale differently.

Now, though, a new king ruled in Númenórë, and the borders of the Andustar had been opened once more. Míriel indeed found it a green place, found it full of trees. She found it desolate and silent, too, but that would not last.

Several months had been spent preparing this house for human habitation. The decades had not been kind to one of the few buildings left standing in the Andustar after the region had been razed, and there was much that had needed to be repaired or replaced. Indeed, aside from the necessities, the house was still mostly bare, a testament to how impatient its rightful inhabitants (and their guests) had been to be here.

“Míriel!”

A section of the garden wall had collapsed, leaving a clear path to the cliffs and the crumbling stairway to the sea. Through the hole in the wall, Míriel spied a tall, dark-haired man waving to her. She smiled slightly, and hitched up her light blue skirt so that she could join him out on the cliffs, the bristly grass brushing against her legs.

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” Elendil remarked airily.

“Yes, it is,” Míriel agreed. She rather wished they could walk down to the beach, but the rest of Elendil’s family wasn’t awake yet, and she could easily imagine their reaction if they woke and found one of their children and the king’s only child nowhere in sight.

It was enough to stare out on the sea, though, and breathe the salt air. Míriel had been to the sea before, had visited the shore of Rómenna and the soft, white shores of the Hyarnustar many times in her life. However, the air smelled different here, fresher, cleaner. She wasn’t sure if it was just that the Andustar was so empty, if it was because this land was free of the oppressive aura that engulfed the rest of Númenórë, or if perhaps the whole island would feel this way in time, and it was just starting here. “It’s so quiet,” she murmured, smiling slightly.

“I, uh… I actually miss the noise,” Elendil admitted with a rueful laugh. “I can’t sleep without it; that’s why I’m out here now.”

Míriel stared at him. “You mean to tell me you actually miss Rómenna? As I seem to recall, you were all sleeping three people to a room there.”

“I don’t miss _that_ ,” Elendil replied quickly. “What I miss is having my friends close at hand—especially in case something goes wrong.”

“Ah.” That was something Míriel had heard from many over the years, though she hoped it was something that she would never have to hear again. Ar-Gimilzôr was dead, and her father was on the throne. The Faithful would never again have to fear the persecution of the king. “Do you know how long it will be before you can live here permanently?”

Elendil sighed, and the wind sighed with him, ruffling his hair. “I’m not sure. First, we have to find farmers and shepherds and woodsmen and the like willing to come live here, and that hasn’t exactly been easy.”

Míriel frowned. “That’s odd. I should think that there would be many eager to come live here again.”

For a long moment, Elendil was silent, staring out on the misty sea, and Míriel said nothing, herself. He need not fear the consequences of speaking plainly, but if he wished to weigh his response, let him do so. It was fine enough to stand out here, and watch the seagulls dive in and out of the rolling sea looking for fish.

At length, Elendil answered her thusly: “If you must know, Míriel, I believe they fear this to be some sort of trap, or that the king will change his mind and have the Andustar emptied once more.”

“My father would never do such a thing.”

“They also wonder what the next to wield the Scepter thinks of a restored Andustar.”

Míriel scoffed, but smiled as she replied, “You can tell them that Tar-Míriel will consider a restored Andustar the first step of a restored Númenórë.”

The night had been a long one, but a new day had finally dawned for Númenórë. There might still be much to do before the land was returned to its original state of bliss, but Míriel counted herself fortunate that such days were hers. She would not see night fall again.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Andustar** —The western promontory of Númenor. The north of this region was rocky, with forests of fir trees on the coast. Andustar contained three small bays which all faced west, the most northern of which was the Bay of Andúnië. The south of the Andustar was fertile, and there were forests of birch, beech, oak and elm trees. Timber was this region’s main source of wealth.  
>  **Númenórë** —a more conservative Quenya form of the name ‘Númenor’  
>  **Hyarnustar** —the southwestern promontory of Númenor; a fertile region home to vineyards and farmlands, though it becomes more mountainous in the extreme southwest part of the region; the beaches are of white sand and gray shingles


End file.
